


Corporate Synergy and Other Buzzwords

by ketchupcrisp



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: BDSM, Canon Compliant, Dirty Talk, Except Endgame Because Nope, F/M, Mutual Masturbation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:32:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29068845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ketchupcrisp/pseuds/ketchupcrisp
Summary: Tony had, he thought, exhausted every option available when it came to kinky sex. It turned out that kink with actual feelings was something else entirely. (Or: Tony and Pepper develop a BDSM relationship as a means of coping with the various traumas the MCU inflicts on them.)
Relationships: Pepper Potts/Tony Stark
Comments: 20
Kudos: 41





	1. Introduction to Synergy

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, all! Welcome to one of my Marvel Trumps Hate fics for this year, written for the marvellous deehellcat! Just a few notes before we get started. 
> 
> 1) This fic will be a mostly canon-compliant story featuring Pepper and Tony's relationship throughout the MCU. Specifically, they'll be exploring BDSM as, in part, a way to cope with the various traumas the MCU throws at them. Some scenes, especially in later chapters, will therefore deal with difficult topics. However, the actual kink will always remain risk aware and consensual. Pepper and Tony will be switching roles throughout the story, so if you only read either of them as exclusively a Dom or a sub, this might not be the fic for you. 
> 
> 2) The one exception to the canon-compliance will be the finale of Endgame, because I remain firmly in denial, and am quite happy to stay there thank you. 
> 
> 3) If you need or want more information about anything in the story before deciding to read, please feel free to leave me a note in the comments and/or on Tumblr at any time and I’ll be happy to help as best I can. I try to be conscientious about tagging for major themes/topics which may be upsetting/triggering. I also tend to flag more chapter-specific things in notes on those specific chapters. Ultimately, however, you are an active agent who knows yourself best. So please take care, whatever form that care may take for you!
> 
> 4) I will probably add tags for secondary relationships as the story progresses, but our primary focus in this fic will stay on Tony and Pepper. 
> 
> 5) At the current moment I'm struggling with some pretty intense anxiety, and I’m just not up for turning this fun hobby into another trigger for myself. Put simply, if you don’t like the story (and especially if you’re here just to kink shame, say that you hate D/s stories, don't think Tony should be allowed to be a sub, etc.) please don’t read it. I gleefully delete those kinds of comments anyway.
> 
> 6) My hope is to update weekly on Fridays. However,I may occasionally need more time. The best place to look for news about any delays or other news about the story is my Tumblr.
> 
> 7) Chapter-specific warning/tags for this one include dirty talk, mutual masturbation. Less fun ones are the immediate aftermath of Obie's actions, plus the ongoing effects of Tony's captivity, in IM1. (This takes place pretty much immediately following the battle at SI, so those events are extremely raw for everyone involved.)
> 
> Alright, I think that’s finally it for me. Thanks to those of you who stuck around so far. And away we go!

When the nightmare that had been Afghanistan was finally over, it hadn’t truly felt over for days. First there had been well-meaning but also clearly fascinated and appalled doctors, eager to get their hands on the scarred remains of Tony’s chest. (He’d quashed every one of those efforts with what he could now admit were some vicious verbal takedowns. At least one of the doctors had immediately resigned.) After that had come the parade of military officials, whose attempts at prying the truth from Tony were usually paired with some variation on a lecture about his duty to his country, the memory of Howard Stark, or the young soldiers whose deaths he’d witnessed the day of his capture. The latter had been the worst; one of the last ditch efforts on the part of a particularly furious General had involved shoving a printed copy of the picture Tony had taken with the kid sitting next to him in the Humvee just seconds before the attack. Before Tony could even formulate a response Rhodey had stepped in, stiff with the kind of cold fury that almost made Tony feel sorry for General Guy. When Rhodey had returned, he’d been alone, his expression still lined with evidence of sleep deprivation and simmering rage. If there had ever been a moment where Tony might have broken down and told them everything (and it would have been all of them, there was no way the room they had kept him in on the base wasn’t bugged), the surge of bitter guilt he’d felt when he’d laid eyes on his exhausted and embattled best friend would have been it. 

Instead, Rhodey had crossed the room in two strides and placed a single finger across Tony’s dry, flaking flips. 

“No. You’ll tell me one day, but not here. Not now.” And then he’d stripped out of his uniform and laid down in the bed next to Tony. The last time the two of them had shared a bed like this had been the night Tony had gotten the news about his parents, and the warm, solid familiarity of Rhodey had been the first time Tony truly let himself believe that some semblance of himself had truly made it out of that cave and would get to return home. 

Even though Tony’s chest still ached (literally or metaphorically, he wasn’t quite sure) at the site where Obie had ripped his heart out with gentle, caressing words, he had therefore been entirely prepared to face a similar onslaught of probing and unanswerable questions after the showdown at SI. And sure enough, the Agent—Tony’s brain insisted on referring to the guy only by his title—that had lead the attempted take-down of Obie had appeared at Tony’s side seconds after he’d been taken off the roof. He’d seized Tony by the elbow and guided him to a car that seemed to have materialized out of nowhere.

Bracing himself for a long evening of interrogation, it had taken Tony’s foggy brain several seconds to realize two things: the first, that Coulson had not even gotten in the car he’d steered them to, and the second that Tony was not alone. Pepper, whom he’d assumed had either been sent home or detained for questioning of her own, was in the towncar’s back seat. Like Tony, she bore traces of the battle she’d ended up in the middle of; there was a fine layer of dust and grime on her face and in her hair, and at some point she’d removed the towering heels she practically lived in, revealing pantyhose so shredded he wondered if they would dissolve entirely the second she tried to move. Even her smile was tremulous and uncertain, nothing like the wide, toothy grins she would gift Tony with when she was truly proud of him for something, or when it was early or late enough that she forgot to pretend to be irritated with him. 

“Pep.” His voice was raspy with smoke inhalation and, well, exhaustion, and she granted him the same mercy that Rhodey had only a few weeks ago: she pressed a single finger, chipped nail polish and all, to his lips. Without meaning to do it, without even realizing it was going to happen, Tony’s entire body pitched forward. It was less of a lean and more of collapse; like a puppet with cut strings, his body seemed to take Pepper’s presence as permission to release the tension that was the only thing keeping him upright. Pepper grunted slightly at the impact, but before Tony could muster even the offer of distance, she had wrapped one of her hands around his neck. Her nails dug into his skin and would undoubtedly leave behind marks, which would be paired with finger-shaped bruises from the pressure of the hold. The touch was fierce and unforgiving and Tony knew then, in the back of a black SHIELD car, that he loved Pepper, had loved her since nearly the very beginning when she’d stormed into the shop and had been twenty minutes into a lecture about how behind he was before she’d remembered to formally introduce herself as his new assistant.  
****

For a while, this knowledge was emboldening. He didn’t say anything to Pepper of course; even Tony’s relative lack of awareness in this field made him pretty certain that confessing his love to someone immediately following a shared near-death experience was not only cliché, but borderline emotionally manipulative. It was comforting enough to realize that he was even capable of that kind of attachment to another person, especially one as kind and decent and capable as Virginia Potts. 

She followed him wordlessly into the mansion without asking, even the playful formalities of their usual relationship stripped away. It was comforting to watch the ease with which she moved through the space like it was her own, turning the kettle on and gathering mugs and scooping looseleaf tea into bags. Content to let the small and uncommon sounds of domesticity soothe the jagged edges of the day, Tony was halfway to the long white sectional couch before the dying embers of the fire in the fireplace brought the memory screaming back to the forefront. 

_“You really think that just because you have an idea it belongs to you?”_

Pepper, who had been moving with uncharacteristic quiet in the absence of her usual heels, hissed from somewhere behind him as Tony’s abrupt stop sent tea cascading down the side of one of the mugs in her hand. 

_“Oh it’s beautiful. Aww Tony. This is your ninth symphony.”_ Bile rose in his throat, burning and bitter. Obie’s crimes had been bad enough, but the way he’d touched Tony then, almost caressing him at some points in some horrible cross of of both a lover and a parent was still enough to leave him breathless in the wake of its twisted cruelty.  
****

No more than eight minutes later, the bots were gleefully picking at the remains of a four thousand dollar couch, and he and Pepper were drinking tea in Tony’s California King bed. Pepper had abandoned the remains of her suit in favour of an SI hoodie and a pair of Tony’s sweats, and she was monologuing with shocking eloquence, given her clear exhaustion, about an artist Tony had never heard of. 

“And I mean, there’s a lot of, I don’t know, abjection about her work. Some even call it grotesque, but that’s so valuable given her context! To me it’s so much more interesting to interrupt the usual gazes that way than just to parody it the way her earlier work was sometimes guilty of doing—and you don’t care about any of this. Sorry.” And it was true that art was not a particular passion of Tony’s; he cultivated a collection mostly because it was expected. But he’d bought a lot more work in the past few years, ever since he’d hired Pepper, and well that was hardly a coincidence, was it?

“I care when it’s you saying it,” he said honestly, then took a long, unnecessarily loud sip of tea to fill the slightly awkward silence that followed. “You should get some of her stuff.” 

“Sherman’s? Most of it is at the Met or the National Portrait Gallery right now. And honestly, it sort of pains me to think of it sitting in storage, Tony. Work like that is meant to be seen.” 

“So don’t store it,” Tony shrugged. “Put in your office at SI, or in one of the public buildings. Call it a late second birthday present.” Pepper appeared somewhat overwhelmed by the offer, so Tony then made a show of wagging his eyebrows lasciviously. “Not that anything could really top my first.” She rolled her eyes, hit him on the arm, and the fragile balance between them was restored once more. 

It lasted through several rounds of the most random and stimulating conversation Tony had had in ages. They covered everything, with the tacit understanding that none of it could be related to the events of the past few months. Tony told stories about MIT, shattering once and for all Pepper’s illusions of an innocent Rhodey led astray by Tony; she ranted about the most obnoxious members of the SI Board of Directors, then spent a good half hour talking Tony out of playing late-night pranks on some of the worst offenders. (Or at least the let her think she had talked him out of those plans. Probably better to give her some plausible deniability.) They debated Halloween candy best and worsts, shared fashion wins and misses, and played Russian Roulette with the saved music on Tony’s sound system. 

The one thing they did not do, and did not even discuss, was sleep. At least until somewhere after four in the morning, when Pepper laid her head against Tony’s legs with a sigh. 

“I have no idea how you stay up like this all the time. I’m so tired I’m almost nauseous, but there’s no way I could sleep if i tried. What do you do when you feel this way, just keep working?” 

“No, when it reaches that point I usually need a really good scene to either put me down or pull me back up.” Tony has made inappropriate jokes into practically a name brand, and he has never regretted speaking before he thinks more than he does when the words he’s just uttered finally catch up to him. Pepper, however, did not appear to be disgusted or upset at their sudden foray into a discussion about kinky sex. She had lifted her head to rest on her chin, and she wore a mischievous little grin that Tony instantly wanted to have JARVIS photograph from every angle so Tony could keep it to himself forever. 

“Which one would you pick right now, if you could?” His brain came to a stuttering, screeching halt so loud in his own mind that he wouldn’t have been remotely surprised to find out that Pepper could hear it. “What? I’m not saying let’s actually do it, Tony, I can barely remember where my toes are right now, not to mention I have no idea what the status of our relationship even _is_. But we could both use a bit of stress relief before the press conference in a few hours. Plus it’s not like I haven’t seen you in the immediate aftermath of some of those encounters. You’d just be—filling in the blanks. Connecting the dots. Whatever.” 

Tony thinks with an exhausted near-giggle that he’d never thought of connect-the-dots as an erotic game before, and now he’ll never be able to see it without thinking about the beautiful array of contradictions that is Pepper Potts, a woman who can go from cautious and reserved to fearlessly leaping over the tenuous boundary between co-worker and friend to…well, something else, all in the span of a few short breaths. 

Even in this brand new context they were still Pepper and Tony, so there was a great deal of bickering and teasing as they work through the specifics of this little experiment of theirs. Eventually they both wound up naked but under the thick covers of Tony’s bed, with strict promises not to ‘peek.’ Tony hadn’t been naked with another person outside of the immediate promise of sex since…hell, maybe not since he was a child. It was unexpectedly thrilling, the twinned feeling of intimacy and moderation.

“So you were about to tell me whether you’d be heading up or down, I believe?” 

“…probably up. I haven’t, since Afghanistan…I don’t even know if I could.” So much of what had once been appealing about submission—the enforced stillness, the lack of access to particular senses, the pain and denial and the sense of being utterly taken over by someone else—still felt appealing mostly in a melancholic way, like Tony was mourning who he had been when he’d been when he’d been able to accept those things without fear or hesitation. 

Under the covers, Pepper reached her hand out and found Tony’s, threading their fingers together. Her breathing was deep and even, and slowly Tony’s began to match it, his most basic bodily functions just as willing to accept her guidance as Tony himself had always been. 

“Stay right here. Tell me what you’d do. I want to know.” 

“Rope,” he blurted, then winced. Tony had once been good at this, hadn’t he? Smooth? Confident? Suave? (Come on, Stark. At least pretend to have it together.) 

“Mmm. Not just restraints, rope specifically. Tell me why.” 

“Anyone can use a pair of handcuffs. They can still be fun, but there’s…a kind of artistry to rope. The patterns, the technique, the marks it leaves behind on your skin. And there’s a lot more range. It can be so light and unobtrusive that you could be wearing it in public under your clothes without anyone knowing, or it can be so restrictive that you can barely move your toes.” It was startlingly easy to imagine Pepper held safe in the confines of his rope. He’d use something soft—hemp, probably—and he’d have it custom made so that the colour could be just right. Some kind of jewel tone, a deep blue or a green, maybe? The contrast with the pale cream of her skin would be magnificent. 

Pepper’s hand slid out of Tony’s, and the sheets rustled. The part of Tony that was used to immediate gratification would have given just about anything to witness what was going on outside his view; he wanted to memorize exactly what it looked like to see Pepper bring herself pleasure. Tony could, he was certain, spend the rest of his days mapping out the exact angles of her body and the exact pitch and timber of her moans and gasps. But there was something equally thrilling and entirely new about being forced to imagine it all, to have nothing to go on but those noises, or the way her pupils dilated further in response to its secretive movements. He watched her hungrily until her replying gaze took on the definite qualities of a glare. 

“Well you’re certainly not planning to just leave me all tied up like that. What are you going to do with me now that you have me, Tony?” He groaned. It was the first time either of them had openly acknowledged that this wasn’t a generic fantasy; they could never walk this back now, not completely.

“Honestly? I’d probably just look at you for a while.” Pepper arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow in his direction, and Tony shrugged, unrepentant. “You’re still about as often as I am, maybe even less. To just have you there with nowhere to go, nothing else distracting us…yeah, you better believe I’d take my time. Plus I’d be doing what I do best.” 

“Calculating how long you can make me crazy before I throw something at you?” 

“Observing. Experimenting. Documenting.” Pepper’s breath hitched, as if the sound had been dragged out of her, and it was better than any scream or moan Tony had ever wrung from a lover before. She still wasn’t willing to give it up entirely, though, not this woman who had borne the best and worst of Tony’s highs and lows without seeming to break a sweat. The motions of her hand under the sheet actually slowed down in silent challenge. 

“And what would you be observing exactly, Mr. Stark?” 

“Oh just about everything, Ms. Potts. If all the spots I know you’re ticklish turn into hot-zones when you’re turned on. What that pretty long neck of yours looks like covered in bite marks. Exactly what kind of pressure and suction you like when someone sucks on your nipples. Mostly, though, mostly I’d want to recreate every single noise and expression you’re making now. I’m going to remember it for the rest of my life, I promise you, and while prior to this evening I would have claimed to not be much of a jealous guy, it turns out that right now I am ragingly jealous of _you_ for getting to be the one to bring you off. You know everything about you, Pep, and I want…fuck I want to know you like that.”

Tony was hardly a stranger to dirty talk. Hell, he had it practically down to a science, to the point where he knew in under two minutes exactly what it would take to bring a bed partner to orgasm. It was a mostly-predictable set of scripts that tended to have relatively little to do with his own appetites. This was fine, because he’d learned long ago that an honest articulation of desire was just as dangerous as any other kind of weapon when it got into the wrong hands. The catastrophic failure of his brain-mouth filter right now was therefore all the more shocking, but it was also hard to care when Pepper’s hips were rising up off the bed, chasing a touch she was denying herself. His own drifted downward, producing a shock of pleasure when he dared wrap his hand around his length. 

“Not sure I’d make it easy on you,” Pepper said archly, a tone somewhat undermined by the way her breath hitched immediately afterward and the tiny thrusts of her hips grew more pronounced. Unable to help himself, Tony used his free hand to trace the outline of her body over the top of the covers. He groaned as he found her hand gripping her own hip, fighting for control. It was perhaps not Dominant of him to think it, but Tony could never have denied her pleasure the way she was currently refusing it to herself. 

“Touch yourself for me honey.” 

“I didn’t think that was your call to make just yet.” Tony groaned, allowing his own hand on himself to speed up as he watched Pepper watch him. “Not all of us are quite so impatient,” she whispered, a taunt and a dare that did exactly nothing to incline Tony to try to master himself. 

“Bet I could make you that way. I’d make it my mission in life to make you impatient, Pep. I’d spend hours learning every damn thing it would take. It would take more than one scene, granted, but eventually I’d know it all. What you think of when you’re desperate and horny and need to make yourself come right this second, what kinds of thoughts you tease yourself with when you’re trying to take it slow. Even the things that you’re afraid to let yourself linger on, the ones that light a fire under your skin that you can’t fight even when you want to.”

Finally, _finally_ , Pepper’s hand moved. In seconds it was, making rapid, jerky circles on what could only be her clit. This expanded the list of people and things Tony was apparently capable of being jealous of to his own bedsheet, because how dare the sight of Pepper like this be obscured by anything?

____

“I’m not—there’s not—”

__

“Of course there is, Ms. Potts. And I promise I won’t rest until I know every one of those secrets, even the ones you try to keep from yourself.” He wanted pretty desperately to speculate aloud. Would Pepper like pain? Her pale skin would certainly look beautiful in shades of red and pink. Would she want to beg Tony for permission to come, have him exert the same kind of unforgiving control she’d given to herself earlier? Would she liked to be petted and praised, or strive to meet the strict demands of a Dom who was difficult to please? He could be any of those things for her, Tony was sure of it, was pretty sure he’d rewrite his own damn DNA to be exactly what she needed. But the chance of accidentally hitting a limit or trigger if he just started babbling options aloud was too damn high. He didn’t need to know it all tonight. He thumbed the head of his cock, then fucked into his fist with an almost furious grunt. 

__

“Tony, I’m—”

__

“Do it,” he growled. The motion of her hand was frantic and slippery; it wouldn’t be long. Tony removed his hand from his cock. This might be the only time he was ever with Pepper this way. Who knew if she would come to her senses in the coming days when the spectre of imminent death and destruction was slightly further behind them? He wasn’t going to allow himself to be distracted, not even by his own gratification. 

__

Her other hand slid under the covers. It rested higher than the first, the blanket above it rising and falling in sharp motions that suggested she was playing with her own breasts, and not gently either. Tony ached to let his fingers join hers, but the sight of Pepper giving herself over like this, just as brutal and exacting in her quest for her own release as she was when negotiating deadlines and smacking down self-important businessmen, was its own unique delight.

__

“With me. Tony, with me, please.” 

__

Even when Tony had been at his most wild and uncontrollable, and Pepper at her most desperate to stop him from self-destructing, she had never, ever begged him for anything. For a dizzying few seconds he though the might come from that alone. He didn’t, but it was under a minute after Pepper’s shouted plea that they both lay next to one another, panting through the aftershocks. 

__

“Well, we’ve never done that before,” he mused. 

__

“Shut up and go to sleep, Tony.”  
**** 

__

Morning had already arrived by the time their eyes shut, so the next morning was less full of secretive smiles and innuendos than it was punctuated by requests for coffee refills and a brief hunt for a suitable pair of shoes for Pepper. (It turned out she had a few pairs stashed throughout the mansion for emergencies, a fact which made Tony want to do a skipping routine worthy of a Disney princess.) Still, where he might have expected Pepper’s rebuffs of his advances in the moments before the press conference to feel like a step backward, Tony had an uncharacteristically optimistic suspicion that it was more of a step around. They had jumped over several necessary stages last night in the face of grief and adrenaline, but they would almost certainly wind up back in that place one day. 

__

Tony might order the rope now, just to be safe.

__


	2. Intermediate Synergy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following the events of Iron Man 2, Pepper struggles with residual hurt and anger. Tony proposes a solution.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter-specific content notes for this chapter: Tony and Pepper scene while both of them (but especially Pepper) are struggling in the aftermath of IM2. Pepper is invited to safeword and talk those things out first, chooses not to and everyone is fine. However, if people engaging with kink while there are still some unresolved issues between them is at all upsetting, this might not be the chapter for you.
> 
> The kink might also be considered under-negotiated by some. Tony recognizes as much, provides a safeword and check-ins, and outlines his rough plan for the scene before he starts. I consider is Risk Aware and Consensual, but people's feelings can vary. 
> 
> Finally, this is Pepper's first time subbing, and she has some anxieties about being a 'good enough' or 'proper' sub. 
> 
> As always, feel free to let me know if you have any questions or concerns.

For weeks after the battle at the Expo, Pepper couldn't eat omelettes. This was, she knew, a rather minute and even petty detail to focus on. While thankfully no one had lost their lives that day, many people had been injured. Not to mention the damage it had done, was still doing, to SI’s reputation to have the Expo quite literally explode in their faces. And in the middle of it all, Natalie—no, Natasha—had gone back to her real job, leaving Pepper short-handed and…well, lonely. Toward the end she’d come to count the other woman as more a friend than a colleague, and while Pepper had plenty of the latter, the former were in rather short supply these days.

Instead of being rightfully enraged by any of this, her typically-practical mind’s non-solution was to focus on the fact that one of her favourite breakfast foods was no longer an option to her. She fixated on it to the point of absurdity. When her usual favourite—mushroom, spinach, alfalfa sprouts, and cheese—proved to be a non-starter, she mixed things up and tried one filled with salsa, avocado, cilantro, and lime instead. After this, she managed to convince herself that she needed to switch up the venue. Omelettes were a quick meal she typically enjoyed preparing at home, but instead she braved the Saturday brunch lines to try the new it-chef’s take, which paired kimchi and fresh cream cheese. It had smelled amazing, and she had taken precisely two bites before leaving the restaurant citing an emergency at SI. 

After this incident she was forced to admit that it wasn’t the venue, or the ingredients, or anything except the simple fact that her boyfriend had planned to announce his imminent death after spending two hours preparing one of the world’s simplest breakfast dishes. She’d never be able to see an omelette again and not hate Tony, and herself, for everything she hadn’t seen for months. The desperation and fear and sadness had depleted him almost down to nothing, even as Tony seemed by all appearances to grow bigger, more egoistic and bombastic. For once, Pepper had fallen for the illusion of the Tony Stark Show, and it had nearly cost both of them everything. 

By the time Monday rolled around, she had abandoned breakfast all together in favour of her third latte in the span of two hours. The latte detail should be noted, she felt, because too much caffeine had a tendency to make Pepper anxious and slightly sick to her stomach. All of these combined factors meant that when a grinning Tony strolled into her office, the triangular pattern of his shiny new arc-reactor gleaming underneath his perfectly-tailored shirt, she was already disinclined to offer a warm greeting. 

Then he started in on upping the R&D budget. To be fair, the project for once had nothing to do with Iron Man. He had just come from a press conference where SI had announced the imminent release of a new tablet. Tony had been reluctant to enter the electronics market at first. Indeed, he’d only agreed in the end because Pepper had made it a condition of her staying on as CEO of Stark Industries. If they weren’t making weapons anymore, they needed to corner a different market, and while Tony was very nearly ready to test the new arc reactor’s ability to power more than the magnet sitting in his chest, they needed something else to stop the gushing wound on their reputation that had been the Expo. 

Of course, after all his complaining it had taken Tony about ten minutes to become lost in the project. She’d barely seen him for weeks now, and here he sat espousing the benefits of trying to pair the tablet with a limit version of the holographic interfaces he used in his own home. Usually Pepper had a deep and unvoiced weakness for this version of Tony, so overcome with enthusiasm and discovery that the disaffected and sarcastic mask he so often wore fell completely away. He bounced on the balls of his feet like a little kid, and gestured wildly as he tried to make you see what was so clear to him, and it was generally charming in a way that managed to be both sweet and slightly arousing at the same time. 

Usually. Today, just tracking Tony as he paced her office in an unknowable path made her head ache. His joyful enthusiasm on top of that? It was almost too much to take. 

“I’m just not sure we can consider putting more into R&D this quarter.” He made a kind of flicking gesture which Pepper knew, just knew, was the same one he used to minimize or delete holoscreens. It was more than likely an unconscious thing, but she saw red all the same.

“But now is exactly the right moment! We have to prove that we’re not just another company entering an already over-saturated market. The thing we have on our side is innovation, and innovation requires resources.” 

Pepper slammed her palms down on her desk and stood, wincing as her feet lodged yet another protest at having been in heels on a near-constant basis for days. 

“You want some resources Tony? How about you go pick them out of the ruins of the Expo so that you can keep playing with your toys and the rest of us can keep doing the real work!”

The regret didn’t come instantly. Pepper had been too angry and too tired for far too long to feel the weight of what she’d said right away. It wasn’t until Tony smiled, a horrible, twisted melding of his camera-ready smirk and the more authentic version he’d been wearing seconds before, that what she’d done had really hit her. 

Most of what she knew about Howard Stark was not information Tony had intentionally shared with her. None of them were the fond anecdotes her shared with the public—that version of Howard was almost entirely a fiction. Over the years, she’d put together a blurry portrait of the actual man from the details Tony occasionally let slip. That he’d had his first drink at seven, that his mother had twice considered leaving, that Howard tightly controlled which projects Tony worked on and which he didn’t because he didn’t want a kid who appeared to be outsmarting him but he did need one brilliant enough to roll out in front of the cameras. As she’d learned more and more, never pushing too hard or asking too many questions at once, one of the most dominant trends that had emerged had been a dismissal on Howard’s part, bordering on disdain, of the very fact of his child’s childhood. There had been no greater insult in Howard’s book than to deem a project infantile or immature, and his son had very quickly learned to put aside anything that fell under those categories. Even—perhaps especially—when something had been dear to Tony himself, he had learned to put it aside. In its place, he had sought an approval he had truly believed, at least for a while, would come with age. (To no one’s surprise but Tony’s, it hadn’t come.) 

“Tony.” She reached for his arm, but his hand was already reaching into his pocket to find his sunglasses. There was never any point in talking to Tony when he had them on, not if you wanted anything real or genuine to come from it. 

“Don’t worry about it, Boss Lady.” 

“No, but I didn’t mean, I—”

“Seriously, Pep, don’t sweat it. Just…see you at eight, right?” 

Date night. It was only their second date night, a tradition Pepper had insisted on in an attempt to force some degree of normality into their lives and schedules, and here she was wishing desperately that she could cancel. But she could hardly do so now, not with Tony pulling out every tired trick in the book to appear unaffected by the cruel ghosts her words had revived, however unintentionally. 

“Of course.”  
****

When she arrived at the mansion at 8:00 on the dot, there was a mountain of sushi on the dining room table. It was still in the cartons, which was odd because Tony could usually be counted on to unpack delivery even if other food preparation tended to be beyond him. Still, she’d spent enough time as the man’s PA that it was almost second nature to pick up a task precisely where he’d left off. She was removing the rubber band from the second of many styrofoam packages when her eyes fell on the other item on the table, which was decidedly not dinner-related: a coil of rope. It was soft to the touch, and even if Pepper was a virtual novice in this area, she knew it had to be custom made because there was no way the deep jewel-green colour came standard. It felt heavier than she’d expected, but thinner too. She found herself appreciating the efficiency of it, the way it felt like not a single fibre was wasted. 

The rope felt good enough in her hands that Pepper was oddly reluctant to put it down to pick up the note that sat next to it on cream-coloured stationary. It was the kind of paper Tony usually only used for thanking or apologizing to important people, and only when Pepper made him dig it out from one of the rarely-used drawers in his desk. 

_Your choice, Pep. I’d be thrilled to have dinner with you, and if that’s all you’d like from me tonight then just take a seat and I’ll be down in five minutes. If you’re interested in pursuing alternate options for stress relief_ —and here the beautiful dork had sketched a little smiley-face with raised eyebrows— _put the sushi in the fridge and bring the rope to me in the bedroom._  
****

It was with a distinct feeling of relief that Pepper entered Tony’s bedroom to find it just as she remembered it. No massive, intimidating furniture clearly designed for sex had made an appearance, nor did whips and chains now dangle from the walls. Tony himself wasn’t dressed in leather or wearing some kind of menacing expression. He was staring avidly at a holographic timer on the wall which she knew without bothering to ask was counting down the seconds until the promised five minutes after her entrance into the house had past. 

That small show of vulnerability was enough to erase any of the doubts that had lingered about the choice she’d made. And when Tony turned around and caught sight of her, and smiled as if he’d never seen anything so remarkable as his tired and grouchy girlfriend standing in the entrance to his room, the doubt was replaced by something else entirely. 

“I—” she started, at the same moment that Tony said, 

“Pep, look—” They both laughed. Tony sat down on the edge of his bed, his silence inviting her to speak. 

“Before we go any further I have to apologize for earlier.” Tony was already shaking his head, no doubt ready to deflect as he did with pretty much any sincere apology given to him. She glared and held out the rope in her hand as if it were some kind of silencing spell. “I am not doing this with you with something like that sitting between us, Tony. Especially because I know you probably think I was just speaking some kind of repressed truth I’ve always known.” He smirked, and Pepper practically jabbed the rope in his face. “I do not think that Tony. I can’t stop you from thinking horrible things about yourself, although believe me I’ll still try. But do you really believe _me_ to be that damn foolish? Do you think I don’t know what it cost you to force yourself to get excited about manufacturing electronics? Do you think me so completely unaware that I wouldn’t realize that you’re using almost all your off-hours to help with the clean-up at the Expo, that you’ve even been there in the dead of night in the armour to help move some of the heaviest pieces of debris? I see it, I see it all Tony, and—”

“Oh God Pep please stop.” She halted, hands on her hips and entirely prepared to begin again if he made light of any of what she’d said, but instead he tugged her by her free hand and leaned his head against her stomach. “I never thought you meant it. Which is admittedly different than not believing it’s true, but we can argue that one another day. The point is, I know you didn’t mean it, but the stress behind it was real. So I just thought maybe I could help you carry it for awhile. If you wanted.” 

Answering with words felt too final, too definite. She never wanted to make Tony a promise she’d have to take back, and she was terrified that the transition from fantasy to reality would prove in some way unappealing to her. There was, however, enough want and curiosity to allow her to pull away from Tony, ignoring his quiet grumble of protest. She pulled off her shoes and removed her suit jacket. After a moment of hesitation (she wasn’t supposed to kneel right from the start, was she?), Pepper sat down next to Tony. His bed was just as obscenely comfortable as she remembered, and she took a deep, grounding breath. One of Tony’s hands rose to cradle her cheek, exerting just enough gentle pressure that she turned to face him. 

“You are the most beautiful thing—I mean not thing, you’re a person, you’re obviously—Jesus. Okay, round two. I’m very glad you’re in my bed tonight, Pepper Potts.” She giggled, and she didn’t even feel bad about it because shy, slightly bumbling Tony was proving to be her newest and most bulletproof kink ever. 

“I’m glad too, Tony.” 

“And if you don’t want to go any further than hanging out here and watching a movie or something I’m totally game for that.” 

It wasn’t an unappealing offer, and as far as fantasies went spending that kind of relaxed downtime with Tony was actually quite high on her list. But she remembered the way Tony had spoken about scening, the way it took him out of his head when nothing else could. She didn’t want to think about budgets or plan press statements or plot upcoming negotiations with the military over continued use of Rhodey’s suit yet again. She didn’t want to think at all. 

“And if that’s not what I want?” Leaving no room for ambiguity, she raised the rope still grasped in her hand. Tony smiled and took it in both hands. At first she took the little motions he made as fidgeting, which he was prone to when thinking. But in half a minute, he had unwound the length and tied a complicated looking knot with quiet, graceful motions. Her throat felt suddenly dry. 

“Assuming you haven’t been doing any research on your own, there’s a whole host of things I should explain—that I _will_ explain. I swear, I want to do this right. For tonight, though, I think can put together a decent introductory scene that shouldn’t press too hard on anything that’ll put you into distress. It’ll follow the basics of what we discussed last time. Did anything I said during that conversation upset you at all?”

The sudden formality of the conversation should have felt jarring, or at least a bit off-putting. But Tony’s sudden switch from bumbling and anxious to utterly competent was more reassuring than anything else. He was taking this seriously, and not hiding that fact, which was rare enough. And he was speaking to Pepper like an equal in a negotiation rather than someone subordinate due either to her lack of experience or Tony’s role as a Dominant.

“No. It was…I liked it all.” 

“Then for tonight I won’t deviate much from the tone or general direction of that scene. The biggest risk of hitting any kind of trigger or limit is likely going to come from the bondage. You’re to tell me immediately if you feel any kind of claustrophobia or panic. Likewise, if you’re any kind of discomfort or pain, don’t try to tough it out. We can play with pain later if you want, but nothing that’s on the agenda for this evening should cause you any kind of discomfort. You can speak as freely as you like so I’ll listen to things like stop or wait, but we should still set you up with a safeword. It’s good practice to have a clear, efficient way to call everything off quickly. For tonight,” he gestured to a pair of shears on the bedside table, “that would mean I’d cut you immediately out of the rope with these.” 

“Strawberry,” she said immediately, gratified by the huff of laughter that pulled from Tony. 

“Going to see to it that I don’t forget again, huh Ms. Potts?”  
****

If Pepper was honest, what she expected to follow was being tied to the bed by her wrists and ankles. Maybe with some additional flourishes, because it was Tony and he was both highly capable and too much of a showman to entirely miss out on an opportunity to show off. But she certainly never would have applied the word ‘patient’ to the man, at least not until this evening. 

Tony started by stripping Pepper out of the rest of her clothing, but there was something deliberately non-sexual about it. Oh he looked his share, his eyes trailing over every inch of her while he stood there fully clothed. But Pepper had spent more than enough time in the shop with him to recognize the nature of that kind of stare. This was Tony in discovery mode, ready to shape the material in front of him into whatever he’d imagined. The implied ownership and evaluation this implied didn’t make Pepper grind her teeth in fury the way it might in another context, but it did raise her hackles enough that the desire to hide herself was easily overcome by a stubborn sense of refusal. She straightened her back, tall and proud, and met Tony square in the eye. He chuckled and shook his head. 

“Not going to make it easy for me. I remember, beautiful. Alright, sit on the edge of the bed. Nice and tall, show off the benefits of all that yoga you’re always trying to talk me into doing.” 

The bed shifted as Tony sat down behind her. A few seconds later, both of her arms were drawn slightly backwards as Tony slid rope, pre-tied into something that felt almost like a bow, up her arms. It wrapped around her shoulders and under her armpits, meeting in a thick knot that sat between her shoulder blades. 

“This is called a dragonfly harness,” Tony explained. He made small adjustments to the placement of the rope, then did something that seemed to lock the knot at her back more firmly in place. “It’s more…ornamental than I might usually use, but I already warned you that I intended to take my time just looking tonight, didn’t I?” Another set of looped rope was drawn up both of her arms, and came to rest a few inches below the first. “You’re holding your breath. Suck in a nice big gulp of air for me, would you? Just to prove to yourself that you can and the rope isn’t restricting you in any way?” 

She hadn’t realized that it had been too long, but her system’s relief when oxygen flooded her lungs proved he’d certainly been right. (And what an odd reversal of their usual dynamic, for him to be the one reminding her of a basic need that was being neglected?) 

“Good girl. That’s beautiful. Couple more for me now. Gorgeous, perfect. How you feeling?” 

“Keep…keep telling me about it? What you’re doing? I wasn’t exactly expecting…well, this.”

“Mmm. Interested to hear more about what you were expecting later Ms. Potts, but sure, I’ll play. I’m going to keep making the ‘wings,’” here, he tugged at one of the loops around her arms, “all the way down your arms. They end up forming almost a kind of sleeve. The knots down the middle of your back here function like a ladder, anchoring and holding all the pieces together.” 

Now that he’d described it the name made a bit more sense. She liked that there was a kind of contradiction in it, the implied delicacy of dragonfly wings combined with the pull of the rope. So much of what she’d distantly imagined about this kind of kink had been harsh and brutal and somewhat one-note. 

“How…how did you choose this particular option?” The ladder in the centre of Pepper’s body received another few ‘rungs’ through quick motions of Tony’s hands that she could feel, though not quite picture without any kind of visual access. He hummed thoughtfully. 

“I’ll answer one more question, but then I get two of my own. I like this tie for a few reasons. It tends to feel more restrictive than it truly is, which makes it a nice setup to use with a novice. It’s also pretty flexible. I could easily add a chest harness, or something that would cinch at your groin. I like rigs that are additive like that whenever possible. That way in future scenes I can start with something familiar to yo—a sub but then keep building on new layers every time.” 

Within only a few more minutes, Tony had built the scaffolding of rope all the way down Pepper’s back. Six sets of wings extended from it, and the harness ended with a simple knot that kept her wrists and hands against her ass. It was both a relief and a disappointment that he’d added none of the other options he’d mentioned; the idea of the rope slipping between her legs, perhaps forming a knot near her clit, had brought a sharp pang of heat to her gut. But she also understood what Tony had meant about building on things slowly. It was an alien enough sensation to have the rope forcing her into a particular pose, feeling the knots pressing gently but insistently against her spine.

As he’d promised, Tony was looking his share. He laid Pepper on her belly, then circled the bed to survey her from every angle, murmuring praise and appreciation and occasionally sets of numbers she suspected were angles, like he was mapping out her exact position. Somehow, the latter heated Pepper the most, perhaps because it was such a Tony thing to do.

“My turn to ask the questions. Tell me how you’re feeling.” Pepper sighed in slight exasperation. The last thing she had ever expected was for Tony to become somehow overly conscientious of safety. 

“I can breathe fine and nothing hurts, Tony. I promise.” 

“That’s good and I’m glad to hear it, but in this case that wasn’t quite what I meant. Tell me how it feels to be on display for me. Held tight for me to look and touch exactly how I please.” 

“Not a lot of touching going on just yet,” she complained idly. 

“And you call _me_ evasive. Answer the question and we’ll see about some of that touching you’re apparently so desperate for, honey.” 

“It’s. I. It feels. I don't know!” All of a sudden, Tony was using the harness as more than a decoration. He looped three fingers under the series of knots at her back and pulled her backwards and up onto her knees, biting a harsh kiss against her neck. Reflexively Pepper reached for him and met only the soft burn of the rope knotted at her wrists. “Ohmygod. It’s, it’s like being forced into my body. I feel things everywhere, parts of me the rope isn’t even touching, that I don’t even normally think about. Please, Tony.” 

This babbling bit of nonsense had probably not been the kind of information he was going for, but Tony rewarded her for it nonetheless. Once he seemed sure she wouldn’t fall without his grip on the rope, his hands circled around to her front and cupped her breasts. Her nipples had never been quite as sensitive as most women’s; Pepper herself only bothered with them when she was already very near climax. Holding back a sigh, she braced for the inevitable disappointment that always resulted when she didn’t immediately begin moaning and writhing. 

Nothing, however, proved to be truly inevitable when one was in bed with Tony Stark. He betrayed no sign at all of disappointment when he abandoned her breasts to trace his way down her body, plucking and tweaking at bits of rope as he passed like they were strings on a guitar. The small shifts in the harness forced Pepper to stay constantly aware of her positioning to avoid losing her balance. It was frustrating and arousing in turns, constantly underscoring Tony’s control over her body’s every move. 

“What did you expect when you came to me tonight?” 

“Being tied down to the bedposts I suppose. Something quick and standard. You never struck me as someone particularly patient, and I have to say you picked a hell of a time to start.” 

This bit of honesty, far from seeming to displease Tony, brought his hand down below her waist for the first time. He dragged a hand up each thigh, pressing his nails down just slightly, then traced lightly at her folds. Her hips wanted to chase the touch, begging silently for more, but she fought the urge down as best she could. 

“I can see that. Shibari is a lot about the process, not just the destination, though. I don’t get to care about that much in most of the work I do now, so it’s special and sort of…meditative, I guess. If it’s any consolation, you surprise me too. I didn’t expect you to be quite so combative this far in.” 

For the first time that evening, something that felt like shame enveloped Pepper, cold and harsh and unforgiving. She didn’t know much, but she’d read a bit about what was expected from the person in her role. During a scene a submissive was supposed to go into some kind of alternative headspace, was supposed to turn soft and pleasing and eager. Was something wrong with her that she hadn’t found it? 

“Sorry,” she whispered. 

“No no no, I didn’t mean—that wasn’t a criticism. There’s no wrong way to sub, but I like that you don’t go down all that easy at first. Makes me want to work harder, get more creative.” Tony stopped fiddling with the rope, coming instead to brace Pepper’s hips from both sides. He was helping her stay up, now, instead of constantly reminding her she could fall, and the shift felt like it had to be a meaningful one. “Plus I think you’re still a little bit pissed off at me for almost dying on you, and that’s making you less inclined to let yourself go.” 

Pepper hung her head, horrified by the sudden flood of tears in her eyes. She had nothing against the kinds of women who cried easily and frequently. Hell, in some ways she envied them. But Pepper had simply never been the type to be able to put her innermost thoughts and feelings on such easy display like that. 

When Tony seemed to realize what was happening, his arms came to fully encircle her waist. 

“Shh, shh, it’s okay. It’s okay. Do you need to red or yellow out of this, Pep? We can talk instead. Maybe it was a mistake for me to not start there in the first place, really.” 

Pepper didn’t know precisely what she wanted. She didn't know if she’d be able to reach submission the way other people could, or if whatever way she did manage would be enough for Tony. All she did know now was that the thought of being cut out of the ropes right now felt like she’d lose the only anchor she had left. She shook her head frantically, not trusting herself to communicate the depth of her own desperation. 

“Okay honey. I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” 

Tony gave her a bit of time to collect herself. Then he held a piece of tissue to her nose for her to blow into it. Needing help with something so basic was startling in its intimacy, and a solid reminder of the harness that restricted her from aiding herself. She met Tony’s eyes for the first time since her breakdown, and he leaned forward to press a kiss to her forehead. 

“There you are. Hey, beautiful. Ready to get started again?” Pepper nodded, and allowed Tony to settle them both back on the bed. He settled them into the same position as before, Pepper on her knees and Tony behind her. But this time he held the back of the harness with a tighter, one-handed grip. With the other, he held out a wand almost identical to the one which sat in the nightstand in her apartment. (She so did not want to know how he would have guessed right down to the make and model.) 

“Colour?” 

“Green,” she said, then frowned. “What about you, though?” She could feel the press of Tony’s hard cock, still trapped in his black dress pants, and she might not know much about all of this, but she knew that the submissive’s most fundamental role was to please the dominant. Had her little breakdown made Tony feel she was somehow incapable of such a thing?

“Spread your knees a little wider for me—there you go, perfect. You can let yourself lean back into me if you like, too.” 

“Tony, why use a toy, why won’t you—” 

The wand went from a benign presence to a very insistent one, buzzing powerfully against her clit. By the time she was able to shriek, Tony had already turned it off. 

“Oh good!” he said cheerfully. “I seem to have your attention. Question time is over for right now. I’m happy to debrief all you like, and you have your check-ins and your safeword if you need ‘em. Otherwise I think you need to start accepting the reality of the situation you’re in.” “But—” The wand buzzed again, and Pepper yelped. “God, Tony, I get it, I get it. No more backseat driving.” 

When the wand came back on a few seconds later, it was at a more more sedate speed. She moaned and let her head fall back as much as was possible in the harness while her hips pressed forward

“There we go. That’s much nicer, isn’t it? I do _want_ to be nice to you, Pep. Want to hear all those pretty noises you made for me the last time we did this. It feels like it was forever ago, but I promise I haven’t forgotten a single one. I don’t think I’ve come since without hearing them in my head.”

It felt like no time at all before Tony was capable of drawing any noise he liked from her. Sometimes he almost seemed to be going for a pattern—two circles of the wand to make her gasp, followed by the more guttural moan that always emerged when he brought it down to tease near her entrance. Some part of her wanted to protest being played like Tony’s own personal instrument, but it was hard to muster too much outrage when Tony was so very vocal in his appreciation.

“Fuck that’s gorgeous. That little whine you made just there, I swear I could make it a ringtone. That’s fucking haunted me since the last time I heard it, I’ll never get enough.” Tony dipped his other hand away from the harness long enough to swipe at her folds. “Getting nice and wet for me now, honey, hmm? Talk to me. You been thinking about this since our last time together?”

Pepper’s hips were moving of their own volition now, the way they always did when she was really enjoying herself. She was distantly aware that this probably made Tony’s job a lot harder, especially since he was angling the wand from behind her, but she was also at the point where the vibrations didn’t even need to be directly on her clit to feel fantastic. It was all a blurry haze of sensation, something inescapable and encompassing. She wanted to beg for it not to be over, to stay forever in this place free of everything but the thought of continuing to be good for Tony now that she’d finally reached it. 

“Yes, Tony, please. Please, you have to, I can’t—”

“Are you asking my permission to come, Pepper?” 

There was something carefully neutral in Tony’s tone. He was probably trying not to influence her answer one way or the other, but if there was one thing in this world that Pepper Potts knew, it was Tony Stark. And if they kept this up, she would only ever get to know him more, better. She thought with a vicious kind of satisfaction that even if he had been right that first night that eventually Pepper would have nothing left to hide from him, he wouldn’t be able to hide from her either. It didn’t feel like any kind of defeat—rather the opposite in fact—to let herself beg the way she she could tell he wanted. 

“Please, Tony. I need it, I need you to make me. Take it, I’m giving it to you and you have to fucking take it!” 

As Tony turned the vibrations on the wand up to high, he growled something, very nearly incomprehensible but which sounded very much like, 

“I’ve needed you my whole life.”  
****

After a sleep better than she’d had in weeks, perhaps months, Pepper woke to the noise of china clinking together. Tony stood in the doorway, precariously balancing heaping plates of breakfast food on a tray that was far too small for the task. On top of the fact that he was nearly dropping half of it, it was by far one of the least sensical combinations of foods she had ever seen served together. Sweet and salty dishes sat together on the same plates in bizarre combinations; sauces mixed to form oddly-coloured pools. One of the plates contained a huge helping of fruit that looked to have been artfully arranged at one point, but had been deconstructed to form a clumsy outline of a heart. Pepper ducked her head until she thought she might be able to look at Tony without the sheer volume of fondness she felt for him coming through at once and overwhelming him. 

“I didn’t know what you might feel like and since me cooking last time was sort of a disaster I ordered everything the diner around the corner makes. I hope you’re hungry?”

“Yeah,” she agreed, surprised to find herself meaning it. “I’m starving.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Okay, this one is gonna be just the porn!  
> Also Me: What if I wrote 1000+ words about omelettes as symbols of trauma tho?
> 
> Anyway, this was a surprisingly emotional chapter to write! I feel so much for them both in IM2, and it was kind of cathartic to give them the chance to work through some of it in this way. Hope you all enjoyed it!

**Author's Note:**

> Meep! I hope you all enjoyed the first installment of Pepper and Tony's kinky adventures. I had a ton of fun writing it!
> 
> And for those wondering, the title is an homage to one of my favourite kinky fic series of all time, shaenie's "Introduction to Physicality."


End file.
